


smile, wave and forget (creative liberties humanstuck longfic)

by PYPS



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst and Feels, Attempted Murder, College AU, Creative Liberties, Explicit Sexual Content, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mafia AU, Mafiastuck, Mentions of Suicide, Multi, POV Vriska Serket, Trans Vriska Serket, contemporary, mobstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25270384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PYPS/pseuds/PYPS
Summary: humanstuck mafia au, vriska pova humanstuck AU type thing where vriska(veronica) is her mothers henchman for her organized crime gang which happens to be attached to a bigger larger more illegal scheme. veronica gets wrapped up in a hitman job she doesnt feel morally able to follow through with, the precocious daughter of a bouncer and a wealthy famous legal diplomat, who is told to kill along with the son a chronically disabled fantasy writer and musician.veronica is put upon moral tries, if she should remain bound entirely by her mothers bidding after years of abuse and transphobic comments, or to break free and rebel from the expectations put on her. as she slowly realizes that her hitman jobs, are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes down to all the crime her mother has orchestrated.all depictions of noncon/rape is for plot entirely. as a csa survivor, i wouldnt want anyone to feel as though i were fetishizing that kind of content. this fic deals with heavy topics, please keep your mental health in mind when reading.
Relationships: Kanaya Maryam/Vriska Serket, Sollux Captor/Aradia Megido, Spinneret Mindfang/Neophyte Redglare, Terezi Pyrope/Vriska Serket
Kudos: 4





	smile, wave and forget (creative liberties humanstuck longfic)

**Author's Note:**

> tw; deadnaming the main character, brief implied dyphoria, implied sexual abuse and kidnapping
> 
> chapters are preplanned and posted in 1 week increments.
> 
> all depictions of noncon/rape is for plot entirely. as a csa survivor, i wouldnt want anyone to feel as though i were fetishizing that kind of content. this fic deals with heavy topics, please keep your mental health in mind when reading.

**Act i**

“It’s getting wound up in a bunch of nothing. She really could have prevented all of this by being honest, and not in a way which manifests into brutality.” 

In a sleepy corner of the city, in a small apartment complex with small little flats fitting only the bare minimum lived the mass majority of what is considered the college student populous. The studios were reasonably priced for New York City, however were incredibly cramped and small. The bathrooms were as small as the average woman’s arm span. Its narrow doorways and halls made it difficult to bring many belongings but it seemed living in such a circumstance must be temporary. 

However for Veronica this was not nearly as temporary as she had hoped. The small cramped setting disrupted her studying. An apartment which was paid for by her mother. However to give her that title would be a disgrace to anyone who had ever had been knocked up. This apartment was free of charge for her in exchange for servicing her. Inside was a small cot and a bedside dresser. All of Veronica’s belongings were still in boxes, taped together with beige glossy packing tape. She wanted to unpack her things however saw no reason to. She was finishing her last semester, a major in geography which took long enough on its own. Her classmates at that moment had already settled into more comfortable apartments, that or were commuters who came in from one of the other boroughs. In the evening she would sit at her windowsill fantasizing about the possibility of splitting rent with any of the people she vaguely knew, instead of being locked into a deal with her mother. 

It was nice having a roof over her head, a roof that was a few subway transfers away from her college. She liked the fact that this was free of expense but often she would ponder if any of that was worth it. 

This evening she was staring out the window particularly moody. Irritated and clearly more and more annoyed as her phone vibrated on her thigh. She wanted to just turn off notifications however was bound to leave them on for more immediate and “dire interpersonal” reasons. Her eyes were focused on all the pretty dancing signs and the cars which slowly made their way across the street. Traffic was nasty, walking everywhere was far more convenient and it wasn’t like owning a car in the block she lived in was a particularly good idea. 

She had been tempted however was worried of theft. She knew that the more she had the more likely she would be robbed or harassed. She was not afraid of conflict but rather getting arrested. She didn’t like when people approached her, and living in the same building with cabin fever left her feeling ultimately paranoid and her perceptions of neighboring renters and store clerks became more and more skewed. 

This paranoia wasn’t merely fueled by the fact that she had remained in the same area for so long it made her go stir crazy. But that it was set on fire every time she had to leave the house on short notice to meet up with her mother who would play pool and cards down in the cellar of one of the more active bars down an alleyway. One of the loud ones, so active that you could hear her screaming if you stood in that narrow little path which passed into the isolated brick lined entrance. 

She dreaded going there. Hated it, left her feeling bitter as she was given vague instructions. 

A soft repetitive thudding went up against Veronica’s leg, though the phone was on silent she picked it up.  
She stood up and went to her cot. Not to put on her boots which were nestled beside the frame at the door side of the wall. But to move her head to a pillow and shove her face into it as she gripped her sheets as she laid on her knees. This was just an outlet for frustration, she didn’t seem too upset yet. 

This was not a concern to her she would have plenty of time to get it out soon enough. She jolted up and put on her boots, mumbling softly to herself almost inaudibly, putting them on and zipping them on tight. She checked her posture, how she held herself in front of a lengthy mirror which was resting on the floor, yet not hung up, before she would hit the door. 

She stretched, one leg pulled back into the wall and an arm as a weight point, listening to her wrists and ankles softly crack as she pivoted them until she sprung into jogging in place. She was clearly contemplating and nervously fidgeting in her own little way until she stalled and opened the door walking almost hesitantly out, locking the door twice over and heading down the stairwell which was painted in matte red paint, edged with reflective taping over iron guarding. She hated these stairs but a reminder of comfort, the soft clacking of her boots and how they felt almost satisfying, metal against metal. Her breathing seemed to hitch at every little noise and each time she went down another landing she peered. 

She exited the building and began to walk to the bar. Her eyes were mostly fixated on the pavement, looking at the flattened wrappers, gum and bottle glass and watching her steps. The streets beyond the honking of cars waiting to press forward were nearly dead and silent. Most people must have gone out to party or are preparing dinner in their own apartments. The sun was down leaving the pale slate clouds as the brights thing casting the sky. Her hair was pulled into a long thick braid which fell to her right side, wearing her blue dyed leather jacket oversized and unfastened and a mustard colored cotton shirt. Her hands were in her cargo pants which were tucked into the opening of her boots.

She turned into an alleyway and leaning, leg kicking back on the wall was a tall man, wearing a black leather jacket and a classically sleazy loose fit white undershirt. He was vaping, and despite his almost intimidating appearance when her eyes meet his he tucks his head into his own chest and pulled his vape from outside his mouth and shoving it into his back pocket.

He seems to cringe into himself before uncurling as she made her way to the door which had no window to peer in but only a small peephole. Veronica peered in to see the hanging lights and loud tables, it was not nearly as crowded as it should be even though it was Friday night. She warily opened the door and walked in, trying to take in her surroundings. There was a couple who was sitting by the piano, a chubby girl and a slim man, he had suspicious narrow eyes darted back and forth as his thin and trembling hands pressed on the ivory and obsidian keys. The girl who was on his lap was wearing a flowing brick red dress and her wavy hair almost seemed to fall to the floor. Her chin was rested on his bony shoulder and she lazily gazed at Veronica who quickly shuffled to the tender. The room rushed around her and she nervously tapped at a menu and kicked at the counters lower rim. She only fully perked up when she noticed the bartender staring at her. His eyes were narrow but lax and he lowered his angle to look at her, his brows furrowed. 

“Vern, what can I get you...?” He said as he played with the purple and orange ribbons which hung down from his wavy hair which was pulled into a tight and surprisingly neat ponytail. His voice was hushed, a bit slurred but oddly pleasant. 

“Nothing.” She said promptly as she began to make eye contact.

He began to speak but whatever he was going to say seemed to taper off before it even started. He looked at her almost meekly and pointed at the door which lead down to the pool hall. He didn’t say anything but he wasn’t scared of her either. He was too busy prepping more glasses and finishing his own personal shift and work to bother with small talk, or even to ask what she was there for. He didn’t want any conflict tonight, he thought best to keep quiet. No matter how much he wanted a quiet relaxed evening of serving chatty and charismatic customers there always seemed to be some kind of fight or argument that would taint it.

Veronica sat up and nodding assertively to the bartender. She began to straighten her cotton blouse and then closed up her jacket, zipping it up. She didn’t bother inspecting the room, she had no interest in listening to the chatter and laughing until she looked over at a small booth where she spied a young woman alone at a table she writing in a small journal, no larger than an A6. A pen was held, pressed against her head on top of her ear. She seemed to be listening to music on a pair of headphones. To her side was a drink, one Veronica had never seen before, something that must have been a cocktail made by the tender. 

Before she made her way to her mother’s pool hall, Veronica went over to the lone girl to try to amuse her or herself. It wasn’t too much of a detour, being in the bar was already enough to signal to her mother that she was ready for any work or “favors”. The lone girl was writing in a journal, she had bright green eyes and they crossed from the sides of the page as she wrote. She wore a red cardigan and a pale blue top and her hair was short and messy. 

“So... alone tonight?” Veronica chimed at the lonely girl. 

“Yes, I just want to wind down after that hearing.” The girl said as she sighed pulling her pen down and closing her notebook. 

“Vague much?” Veronica said with a soft snicker. 

“What do I owe you? You walk over here, mention I’m alone and strike up a conversation... I know the signs of being kidnapped and can sense bad vibes.” The girl said sharply. This bitter air in her voice as she began to pull and ruffle at her hair. 

“Wasn’t expecting such an attitude, geez...” 

“Plus, it’s confidential, it’s a court hearing not your community college circle jerk of gossip. Pales out in comparison.” The young lady now disgruntled by Veronica’s prying put her face to the booths tabletop squishing her cheeks into the hardwood. 

The bar was starting to get loud and the lone woman began to cover her ears and Veronica was starting to get the cue to leave her alone. Trying to swindle and pick up this chick wasn’t really going to well. 

She began to leave the booth not long after the girl shouted a bit more slurred at the local populous to just shut up. 

Walking over to the narrow stairway which lead to the cellar was dredging for Veronica. The small enclosed space was lined with picture frames, pictures of her mother with pool cues and shaking hands with young women. Some “Decorative Knives” that certainly had no viable real life use applied to them along with the glaring fact that they were hung in that narrow passage. The creaky steps and Veronica’s loud boots clacking made it even more apparent to her mother that she was arriving. That lurking anxiety was building up inside her. 

The light broke through and sitting on a metal cushioned stool was Ms. Serkay. A tall woman with broad shoulders but a thin waist. Her leg was crossed over her lap as she picked at her fingernails. A similar hue of dark brown hair to her daughter however it was fair more put together and organized. The dirty and rough curls that Veronica had were beautiful in their own right however her mother’s seem to be meticulously washed and woven into braids and knots. She wore a dark dark void-like sun hat indoors and a pair of brown tinted sunglasses. Her outfit was tight on her but Veronica always supposed that was apart of her gig. Little ugly not-daughter doing the dirty work and the pretty woman being the poster child of a larger scheme. 

Her eyes were narrow, eyebrows however remained relaxed somehow. Their posture almost raised in unison to make some kind of cocky or self-composed expression. Veronica made her way over to her mother and looked at her asking the ever so important and pressing question.

“What do you me to do for you?”

It was a question that was asked often on those quiet street nights where everyone was crept and cooped up in their little corners of the dark world. Asked by Veronica in an almost militaristic way, prompted only by the flicker of her mother’s eyelids and small smirk. The phone calls and dread, leading to a burst of unexpectedly pragmatic reprise. 

The woman looked down at Veronica with stern eyes.

“There is a local street gang who had tight ties with the police. The bosses son is training to be a cop so they are friendly. This gang has been a problem for me and inherently for you. I need you to take out their bosses son and the cops daughter. If you do this for me, I will owe you indefinitely. And frankly doing this will get you out of that tiny little apartment you hate so much. You will do this for me, no ifs and or buts.” 

Veronica nodded stiffly. 

“My host will give you all the information and address you may need to do what I asked of you. She can supply resources, but don’t get too invested in her or ask her anything personal. Do you understand?” 

Veronica shuddered. She had never met her mother’s host and wasn’t too keen on getting wrapped up in her mother’s games. What worried Veronica was whatever her mother was telling them, anxiety swelling up again nearly taking over her, whatever slander or potential back talking. But instead of dwelling on this uncertainty, Veronica nodes again this time more externally calm. 

“You can find her in the bedroom up above the bar. My night room. She will hand you the papers and numbers and a bit of cash.” 

Veronica quickly ran towards the exit to make her way to the night room. 

“Victor, if you don’t complete this task for me there will be punishment.”

She looked out from the stairwell and snared at her mother before slithering up the stairs. Bar was settling down at that point but Veronica’s quick and jumpy movements made the people who were drinking quietly stirred and confused. The girl was fuming but that couldn’t stop her from doing what was asked. A simple name shouldn’t stop her from doing what was necessary however did set her off.

She unlatched the velvet lined rope barrier that prevented the casuals from going up stairs from the bar and quietly went upstairs. The landing had a small long tasseled rug which was held in place by the legs of 2 chairs and an end table. It was far more quiet up there, the muffled noise of the people downstairs was comforting, almost silence and droning. She sought out the woman in the night room, grabbing tightly to pull the knob, leaving little leeway for courtesy. 

As Veronica opened her mother’s bedroom door, light cast down to her boots leaving glimmers tracing the host. The large bay window with an almost charming view to the car crammed streets, the windows panes taller than wide. The dark oak floor had her mother’s things strewn across it, as if making themselves a distraction to the true subject. Veronica froze in place, eyes stuck to the bed’

On her mothers bed sat a frail woman in a sheer white and mint nightgown. Her face looked void of any life, her cheek paled out and expression hollow. Clenched in her hands was a file folder and a stack of bills held by a clip. She made small muttering noises and beckoned Veronica to her. 

But she didn’t say anything. She didn’t seem capable of saying anything. Veronica couldn’t help but have an awful feeling about the thin woman. Instead of her usual assertive movements she instead took the folder with the most genuine smile she could muster, since everything at this moment felt like a slap in the face so far. The woman mouthing something, barely any noise escaping her lips as Veronica looked at her with sympathy. A silent conversation, wordless. The strangers legs were dangling off the high rise bed and she slouched to meet the chest height of her. 

Silence is impactful. The woman pointing to her ankles which were bruised and swollen. Veronica opened the file folder to find lists of addresses, phone numbers and full names, small photos graphs with notation by her mother. Her eyes tracing the pages but keeping notice of the host. 

“You’re Kanis’s mother aren’t you? You don’t seem to be able to walk either...” She felt awkward saying these obvious facts to herself in front of the poor woman. Sure to her it was comfort repeating the situation out loud but damn if it always hurt the unfortunate people she faced under the tight reigns of her mom. 

“I can’t do anything right now Mary... But please keep the cash.”

Veronica leaned down, passing the stack to Mary. 

“This might not seem too useful right now and I know it feels like a stab, not being able to leave but have money dangled over you. But it will matter.” 

She turned, afraid to look at Mary’s weepy stained tired face.

“I’d do something now but I know the cops don’t get involved in her bullshit, they never step foot in this shitty little joint. I’m tired of morality tests being put upon me, but it’s not about me, just hang in there.”

Mary’s soft droopy eyes met gaze with Veronica as she left the night room. Dull tired eyes were widened at the concept of freedom. Scooted herself up onto the center of the large king size bed. She stared out the exposing window at the lit up street. The pretty lights and how they flickered and then she prayed.


End file.
